A picturesque farm on the surface, fenced off with old style wooden fence, focused around a large hill on the outskirts of town. The area is veritably covered with mushrooms, tree sized things that grow well in Galli's soil(along with other things) creating a mushroom forest that the owners let the residents of the burrows and whoever wishes explore and wander around the alien looking forest grown on mycelium. They've even made a path through it for the explicit purpose of doing so, including a more open meadow area that some attest is a surprisingly good dating spot.

The real 'farm' is underground, the hill being opened up to a natural cave system that over time has been expanded by the family. Inside the more traditional kinds of farmed mushrooms are grown in a relatively modern style, with rows of nightsoil from the town and anywhere that wishes to contribute (This gives a discount when purchasing from their store!) growing mushrooms of various kinds in different caves to avoid crossing the mushrooms. Its quite the large operation, but largely still handled by the family who owns it, along with hired workers from the Burrows.

A bit designed like a Celtic tower house, with stone walls and an actual gate that can be raised and lowered(Simply used when they lock up for the night). The workstations on the first floor. As a result there's a staircase leading up to the second floor shop for onlookers, though they do offer paid tours of the work spaces on the lower levels, and how they go about making their goods. No one really knows why August had it designed like this, though he gives a myriad of reasons ("Its more lucky", "Worker's safety", Usually a few bad jokes or puns too). He's a jovial man, though serious about his work. He is also entirely oblivious about the irony that a Weresheep works with woolen items.

A humble thing, much the opposite of Maghrl's quite over the top store, made in a Finnish style of wood mixed with brick and mortar. Accents of wood decorate the place, giving it a rustic, old world charm and looking like something from a bygone age. It even has a thatched roof, sloped upward to a point. Its very much a building that would make someone think of the cold north of Europe, if they have that point of reference, or something old style and rustic. The windows are lit by light almost always, and an open/closed sign hangs next to the front door. The door itself is a work of excellent carpentry with scenes from Finnish mythology carved onto the recessed portions. Some people end up just staring at the door without even coming in! A sign hangs above the door, a larger font giving the proper name, Suomi Away from Home, with the description of what it is in smaller, less fancy font underneath.

The interior keeps up the humble rural finish theme, with practically everything visible made of local wood. Everything is made to look medieval or pre-modern while still having the same functions, the area just below the ceiling being carved in a similar style to the door, and the walls adorned with various woodworking projects as decorations and things available for sale. The decorations not for sale include the lighting and medieval style tapestries, which are simply there to complete the aesthetic of the building.

Trinkets sit behind glass cases but the owner is more than happy to take the toys out for children to play with. The building even has an area specifically made for kids to have fun and play around while their parents look at more serious and potentially fragile pieces, an area full of toys made by the establishment and free snacks. There's also free water and snacks for adults too, if they get a bit hungry or thirsty while browsing. The whole place is made to both be convenient and welcoming, and the staff are more than willing to help people pick out pieces or take orders.

Most of the pieces are made in-house, except for a few things here and there that are personal products of Sakarias. Larger pieces are displayed out front and brought to the storage in the back overnight. The rest is beautifully made from local wood and mushroom-tree material( a new medium to Sakarias, so most of those are lower priced or made by another employee). The upstairs is where the workshop is, and deliveries of materials come in through the back so not to leave any debris in the store itself. Sakarias tries to be there as much as possible, given it'd make sense for the 'Robo-Finn' who owns the store to be working up front. Plus he enjoys entertaining kids with stories and being friendly with locals.

Proprietor: Miss Margaret OdbottumIndustry: foodDistrict: KnollsDescription: Located in the heart of the Knolls village, Orwells serves as a location gossip mill, respite from the heat of work, and the place to get lamb-based dished. The architecture and fittings are uncompromisingly Victorian. Games, such as darts, are only played in the public bar so that in other bars you can walk about without the worry of flying darts. The pub is quiet enough to talk, with the house possessing neither a radio nor a piano.

The barmaids know the customers by name and take an interest in everyone. It sells tobacco and cigarettes, aspirins and stamps, and lets you use the phone. A snack counter where you can get liver-sausage sandwiches, mussels (a speciality of the house), cheese, pickles and large biscuits with caraway seeds. Upstairs, six days a week, you can get a good, solid lunch—for example, a cut off the joint, two vegetables and boiled jam roll. You go through a narrow passage leading out of the saloon, and find yourself in a fairly large garden.

Industry: MediaDistrict: KnollsDescription: The book shop is habitually as still as a coffin in a crypt. To enter is to feel the need to hush.This is the shopkeeper's magic at work. A body couldn't enjoy his reading when surrounded by distracting noise.

Bright light radiates from glass globes suspended by silvery chains. Shelves stretch from ceiling to floor, rising up ten feet or more, and these are packed with books. More usually rest on tables, or on the seats of chairs, or are stacked man-high on the floor. The topics widely range. Entire stacks seem dedicated to cooking or animal husbandry, while others contain the history and literature of cultures spanning the universe. Magic tomes line an entire wall, concerning themselves with everything from wart removal to curses.

The "Book Dealer of Ominous Foreboding", otherwise known as MacDoma's Books, deals predominantly to the Freywold, although its owner conducts much of her exotic trade abroad. Nothing in this shop is cheap. Nothing. MacDoma doesn't need to sell buys to get buy.

MacDoma, a Bean Nighe, is not easily fooled and can not be bribed. The creature's solitary nostril takes in the visitor's scents, often reading the very depths of their hearts in the process. It isn't wise to fuck with the Fae Folk. Not wise, indeed. Any who enter with the intention to swindle will find themselves used up for ingredients for a spell. Those who steal will be cursed. (Iron has absolutely no effect on this old girl, nor does she give two shits about the Courts.)

The shop's creators ask that you do not use this NPC. Please ask them to run her should your character seek something inside.

Industry: manufacturing (Medieval to Steampunk) District: the KnollsDescription: The shop is warm and inviting if not a little dirty from his trade. A traditional stone and brick hearth occupies the shop's center, but the blacksmith himself also has a collection of modern appliances, and there is no mistaking the nearby oxyacetylene blowtorch for something medieval. The coke forge's coals bathe the shop in umber tones, dancing off tools neatly arranged on pegs as well as the assorted anvils at his disposal. A car engine rests on blocks in a corner, and several swords hang upon the wall - this sheds some light on the wide degree of his talents. A small workshop (pictured on the right) serves as place for his farrier work.

The blacksmith himself is a massive man toned by a lifetime at his craft. A heavy leather apron wraps around his thick waist, and coal dust is usually streaking the sinewy arms poking out of grungy, rolled sleeves. Time and heat have weathered his face yet his eyes, so crisp and green, betray a soul warmer than the furnaces he tends.

A massive airship and combat platform formerly in service to an alternate-universe United Kingdom airfleet, the Amelia has been repurposed by her captain, Sir Remy Chaucer the Second, for the purposes of commerce and entertainment. Her weapons have been stripped though she maintains her regal colors and symbols as she gently hovers over the Burrows. [A little to the left so as to not cast everything in shadow, of course!]

The Amelia contains all the most up-to-date amenities in her staterooms as well as several large recreational rooms which can be booked for events like weddings, parties, or meetings. She makes daily trips between the Burrows and Urbem Ascalon and weekend trips between the Burrows and Alessio, but also can be booked for private tours and other transportation events provided they remain in the safe zone that is the Burrows, Urbem Ascalon, and Alessio area.

She is crewed by a team of 800 including navigators, engineers, sailors, maids, chefs, officers, and of course the Captain himself. All live aboard the airship, though many hang out in the Burrows during leave.

More a happy accident than a formal creation, Pleasant Park was founded by a group of wanted criminals, political enemies, refugees, and voluntary exiles from Urbem Ascalon. Seeking refuge from the city and finding camaraderie among themselves and an idyllic location near the Burrows agricultural district, they settled and founded their own community there.

Seeking peace with the Burrows, they offered to incorporate the land they were occupying as a public space - a park for Burrow residents. Pleasant Park was named for the beautiful gardens that had been cultivated by the UA residents with Burrow assistance, and the clearing became a favorite spot for picnics, parties, and relaxing in the mid-afternoon heat beneath an apple or oak tree.

There is a sizeable, man-made lake in the middle of the park, dug out as part of the refugees' efforts to collect loam and soil to build the dirt hovels they now reside in. The lake is populated by different species of fish as well as birds and amphibians. Different kinds of reeds and other aquatic plants dot the lakeside.

Surrounding the lake are the various verandas and benches and tables installed by the Burrows to accommodate visitors. These are accompanied by little refugee-run stands selling fruit, ice cream, balloons, trinkets, and other such goods to the passerbys.

The actual refugee dwellings are back towards where the woods are, away from the lake and the park itself. They consist of around ten to twenty houses, all of dirt and wood and loam, built in a crude circle with a little structure in the center serving as the meetinghouse for the residents. Outsiders are welcome to come discuss any concerns, offer gifts, or spend time with the residents in the woods.

Remembrance SquareLocation Type: Public square for nationalistic, patriotic pride eventsOwner: Homelands' Veterans Legion Guild Services / Purpose: Provide food for the needy, a place for disgruntled homesick people to vent their frustrations from having arrived to Galli, neighborhood watch. District: Downtown District - CentralDescription: It's a reasonably sized square that can reasonably house at least a thousand or so people, and in the middle of that square are statues of various nationalist or patriotic symbols held by city residents. Some that are recognizable for a few, others not so much. Like a small replica of the Statue of Liberty, a statue of Lenin, a statue of some supposedly heroic blob monster, a statue of what looks like a powered armor clad saint and so on. The statues are put together to form a big monument in the center on some raised stone tiles. Around the square are several benches and trash bins, but besides that the square is pretty open for a large audience if need be.

A audience that'll typically be consisting of disgruntled and prideful homesick people originating from all over that mutually do not accept Galli as their new or current home to be. It's no surprise that police tend to be watchful around the Square whenever there is a large rally taking place, and is especially given since the Square's creation caused an infamous riot within its first week alone a long time ago during the city's more early development.

This shop offers a wide selection of clay-based dishes (wheel-thrown, handmade, and molded/machined; some comparable to Wal-Mart's fare, some unique and lovely but still utilitarian.) Most are new, but gently used pieces purchased from any interested sellers are mixed in. A narrow selection of other household pottery, ie china animal figurines, drawer pulls, ashtrays, is also available; these are more likely to be secondhand, although new pieces exist. There is a small selection (roughly three each of sixteen types on any given day, six types switch out seasonally) of glazable figurines and a moderate one of dishes, offered as a "paint your own pottery" sideline; employees are willing to watch kids whose parents have paid to glaze while parents shop, subject to employee availability, but no classes are offered currently.

Mixed glazes and additives may be separately bought in small (single-session) quantities, as may kiln space. Bollina also offers a small selection of silverware at a substantial markup, and a few large clay cooking utensils, cutting boards, etc.

Specialties are: mixed red and white clay wares with clear glaze, screw-on-lidded containers (these need grease/wax to be watertight but will hold higher-viscosity stuff without an issue; small ones are provided with glaze/additive purchases), slip work, delicate pieces, and of course dishes in general.

Bollina's shop is a rather narrow two story converted brick house with a basement and attic. A ceramic plaque bracketed to the exterior wall right of the door depicts the logo: an oval shaded to look like a plate, on which a stylized bull holds a teacup, above "BOLLINA". A fire escape goes up to the back of the second floor. The interior is unrepentantly feminine, but not to an extent which alienates tomboys and macho men - light terracotta walls are stenciled with a glossy terracotta-and-white floral, and tables, furnishings, china cabinets, etc are rather ornate and either dark varnished wood or painted dusty pink. Linens and most upholstery are celadon, as is the ceiling. The thick carpet is a bluer, deeper green. A matching green chair rail runs the length of those walls without tall china cabinets: any items below its level are reasonably kid-friendly, ie will not break if knocked down. (Other doors, molding, etc are cream.) Items are often arranged roughly by color, with the cheap wares towards the back.

Miss Bollina herself has olive skin and warm bleach blonde hair perpetually streaked with terra cotta, but is not always available despite living in the attic. She works the retail side 2-6 pm seven days a week, spending much of her remaining time in a spacious second-floor studio/de facto office. Wren, a fairy, shows around customers, while a good-humored minotaur named Dave handles purchases. (Having hired Dave might well be why her shop was evacuated; Wren is a Burrows hire.)

For small purchases of the lowest cost items in the store (ie plain mold-formed plates), Miss Bollina accepts durable non-Gallimaufry currency at 60% of what she is told it is worth. This is due partially to sympathy for fellow Gatejumpers, partially to a belief that she could be yanked out of a world again, and partially to an interest in incorporating unusual currency into pieces. (Expect her to ask about composition so she'll know what not to do; she's one to tell quietly tell people why gold should be taken elsewhere.)

Ronald'sBusiness Type: RestaurantProprietors: Vladimir Smith, Peregrine SpirosIndustry: HospitalityDistrict: Residential area north of downtown. It's being run out of what was Vladimir's perfectly ordinary home at the time of evacuation.Description:Many things are missing after one leaves Earth - but what of the comfort food? Vladimir, a chef laid off due to being a vampire, was always rather partial to the simpler and greasier items. When he and his longtime girlfriend Peregrine found themselves suddenly in a new, safe town with one more house than they'd frequently use, they decided to convert the extra to a fast food-style place. It opened on October 31, 2016 by their old calendar...

Interior: A pattern of yellow and orange diamonds with white borders adorns the walls, with two wide horizontal white stripes cutting the pattern at one and two thirds up the wall respectively; the flat ceiling is also white. The floor is various sealed hardwood. Old couches with new "wool" slipcovers take the place of booths at four recycled-wood tables, although five mushroom wood bar stools do sit at a counter against one side. A small but efficiently gleaming modern kitchen with cutting-edge appliances stacked to the ceiling sits at the far end, along with a counter for ordering. A wide banner advertises:

[We sell fast food made to order. Request your items, and we'll see if we can make them!

The food is quite good. House specialties are fries/chips and carbonated beverages; the latter are pricey as the carbon dioxide must be shipped from Ascalon.

A "walk-through" labeled as such and built out of/off of the former back porch by the current kitchen continues the theme, with a long polished fungal bench along which patrons who'd rather sit may scoot. It's typically not used during bad weather, particularly as the interior with its yellow-toned lighting looks so much cozier. In more pleasant weather, patrons and polite neighbors are welcome to picnic on the neat lawn, which is rather large due to the building's small size.

The logo is an American-cheese-orange smiley face with two pointed green fangs and eight undulating/serpentine thick purple tendrils. Even to the proprietors, it resembles a Halloweeny spider. The fact that none of the symmetrical tendrils are below mouth level further reinforces this - but hey, the alternative looked like a fanged sun.

In the interest of accommodating both proprietors' taste in clothing as well as the fact that uniform anything is tough to come by on a modest budget, the uniform consists of a recognizably yellow-orange top, a wooden nametag, and a 4-inch felt logo pin. Any top variety, including dresses, is fine.

Anything that even begins to look like discrimination earns a rather harsh scolding; the "ab" couple is thoroughly fed up with it. Having posed as Muslim to explain her face covering, Peregrine is now particularly sympathetic towards those who often experience religious discrimination - to the extent that Cthulu followers are more than welcome unless they start misbehaving.

As far as misbehaving goes, do enough of it and one will be kicked out. Threaten anyone with lethal harm and Peregrine's mask comes off, meaning that (if the threat isn't part divine, undead, etc) she can turn it to stone with a quick veil lift.--Ronald's financial backer and chief menial fryer, Peregrine is among the most recent scions of a family of gorgons who trace their lineage to Euryale - supposedly another world's Euryale, but the details are glossed over. Proud of her heritage yet very aware of the responsibility which accompanies it, she wears pastel Ancient-Greek-style clothing when such is an option, with a light, opaque fitted mask under a colorful veil. Her snaky hair tends to hiss loudly when she's annoyed. As her ancestors include quite a few humans, her blood can cure or cause mild illness as opposed to resurrecting or poisoning fatally; however, she'll petrify involuntarily if a mortal sees both her bare face and meets her eyes directly. (One or the other will stun.)

Vladimir, born human, was turned because he introduced himself to a vampire, who - assuming that Vladimir was one as well - invited him to an all-vampire meeting with the best of intentions. The results, however, were terrifying at first for the American culinary student - and then just surprising. He's now rather laid-back if a little jumpy, and tends to wear casual clothing. He can enjoy his wares - he just isn't nourished by them. Vladimir brings his culinary talents to the partnership, along with an assortment of commercial-quality appliances.

For awhile, Alice's Anthill was one of Bielefeld's sillier urban legends: a spot where one could eat a mushroom and explore a buggy metropolis. Yet, particularly in magical cities, such legends often have grains of truth...

Years ago in Dabfia's World, a few spells knocked over several potions with irreproducible timing, altering low-crawling cellar denizens and a few plants. One succulent changed color regularly (and continues to), a potted mint exploded into a large shrub - and some parsley gained the ability to shrink people for just over 38 minutes at a time, by a factor of 98697388. That is, just under 1000 times length/height wise, with typical humans finding themselves a little under 2 millimeters tall.

The bugs (arthropods) were somewhat more drastically altered: in addition to unusual coloration and (power level 4) magic resistance, their minds became similar to those of domestic animals and they gained various feline, serpentine, and batlike features. They also gained petlike lifespans: 9-25 years. (Fortunately for Lydia, the witch responsible, she was seated on a tall stool at the time.)

For some time, the aging witch tended her unexpected pets and their progeny, but eventually she grew too frail to handle interacting with them. She passed the duty to a reluctant friend, whose hopes of getting Bielefeld to take over the little zoo were dashed by increasing anti-ab sentiment. When she, the house, and the bugs were rescued, she renewed her plans - and hence Alice's Anthill and the house finally passed into government hands. A live-in keeper is assigned for several seasons at a time, doling out snips of shrink-inducing parsley from the former dining room.

The current colony consists mostly of ants, tiny beetles, and especially mites - those critters which had large enough basement floor populations for a colony to be sustained. (Outcrossing is possible, but the offspring are feral and leave.) Each of these are cosmetically divided further, into catlike, batlike, snakelike, and various degrees of mixing. All of them are dependent on humans, and psychologically need positive, snuggly interaction.

To protect the rather-unequal capability pet bugs from each other they are in three separate enclosures, each surrounded by a concrete ring several inches deep, a foot in diameter, and protruding six inches above ground. Each such ring has a platform just wide enough to stand on, and a chemical spray that alerts any bugs or shrunk humans that they need to vacate it, which they usually will do within two minutes. Each bug wears a tiny spider's-silk nametag/collar; these comprise names from every culture known to Lydia's internet and then some. It's possible to "adopt" one and receive frequent updates on them. Harming any of them is absolutely not okay, especially as name tags, vertebrate-pet features, and standout coloring readily identify them as this park's domestic pets.

The ants, cheetah-sized relative to shrunk humans, live in a fairly typical anthill constructed in situ. It's at two-forty-five from the back door threshold's right edge, starting 8.5 feet away. The primary attraction is the maze of ant tunnels; additionally, all ants can carry shrunk human riders and (purely) bat-type ones can do so while flying. Ants' mandibles, however, are large enough to amputate an arm and effective. Much like well-trained pets, they will only bite if provoked. Don't provoke them.

The small beetles, large-dog sized relative to shrunk humans, live in a pile of leaf litter (starting 8.5 feet from the center of the threshold.) Leashes for walking them are readily available.

Clover and dust mites, kitten to small cat and mouse-sized respectively relative to shrunk humans, are definitely the least threatening. The cat-type ones are frankly adorable, as are many bat-types. The dust mites do still look quite weird, even monstrous, and may scratch. These critters live in an enclosure (starting 8.5 feet from the left of the threshold) consisting of wood planks surrounded by grass, with dust poured between the planks and small ladders provided for humans along with bridges for both humans and clover mites.

The parsley is pale green with veins of blue - the blue being a heavily altered cheese fungus imbued with a teleportation spell which deposits users on a small magitech moving sidewalk in the former living room 37 minutes after consumption. The destination is absolutely fixed; barring moving the house and several feet of its soil in one unbroken, unchanged piece without shifting it it cannot move from its spot. It does, however, have a very limited range: it will only function within ten feet of the back door's threshold. Provided that enough to taste is consumed (less has little to no effect), quantity does not affect the effect. Eat it next to the enclosure you'd like to visit to prevent a long, grassy hike. Tight fitting/next-to-skin clothing will shrink, although often a little less (ending up baggy.)

Crystal Caves Park consists of seven descending caves strung together, with a huge eighth chamber hollowed out by mining to their upper left. Shafts once led from the eighth chamber to all caves save the foremost (which is at ground level) but only the front and rear shafts are in use (the front having been converted to several rather nice slides, the rear to stairs) with all others plugged save for wiring holes. Small grottoes exist to the sides of several caves, but entering these is often risky. Small creatures might be allowed in, and one damaged grotto is floored for children.

As the miners who shaped them discovered to their chagrin, the caves are devoid of anything precious enough to be worth harvesting; even the crystals are unextraordinary, save when viewed as a unit. In their natural setting and well-lit, however, the effect is majestic and magical. Calcite is the primary mineral.

Admission is 3 silver per person, or 1 pound per family.

In all but the huge side chamber, walls are roped off for their protection - and sightseers', as crystals can be sharp. Most caves are spanned by a walkway, typically metal and wider in wider sections. The rearmost accessible cave is completely floored, with the tallest twelve stalagmites' tips protruding from the floor and three others flush with it. It is rentable at 30 (Runes) pounds per hour between late afternoon and late evening. An okay wooden dining-type table is provided, along with 20 folding chairs.

The eighth chamber has a floor of carved out natural stone. Stalactites hang from most of the ceiling, although many are damaged - the same is true of crystals on the walls, which stop several feet off the ground. Requests to make it available for renting are under consideration; some city and school functions have been held here. This chamber holds a fairly large amount of wooden seating with some stumplike stone tables.

The aboveground section is open to the public. Various hardy fruit trees dot a natural meadow, providing color in summer and a harvest literally free for the picking in fall. Weathered wooden benches are scattered throughout, and the park is cut by dirt trails. It is fenced against livestock, but accessible by lifting a latch; one day a week, it's used as a pasture. Littering is strictly prohibited and fined in all sections of the park, as announced by signs hanging from trees and at cave entrances; often trash cans accompany these. Officials would like to find a way of reinforcing the fence against Fiends...

The Divine Skein GuildhallLocation Type: Guild HeadquartersOwner: The Divine Skein, Guild Master Ashe Undergraff (Vampire)Services / Purpose: Headquarters for the Divine Skein Guild, meant to serve as a meeting place to discuss guild business and a public place for complaints and questions from the community.District: Guild DistrictDescription:

Largely styled after a classic Guildhouse in medieval European style, with visible timber framing and copious windows. Most of said windows display wares of the Guild, with upper floor ones being largely opaque from the outside. The outside is usually lit up with a series of lamps, and the area in front has ever changing displays of wares from guild-affiliated shops for perusal by the public. The main entrance leads to a lobby and public area, with a pleasant sitting room for those waiting for an appointment with guild personnel. Past the lobby on the first floor are the public meeting rooms and some offices.

The upper two floors are reserved for the more private guild matters, with a large meeting hall for general guild assemblies, offices of those higher up in the guild. The guild coffers are located here too, in a discrete part of the building tucked deep inside. Along with this there are workshops here for rent for members of the guild, who wish to put on lessons for incoming apprentices in their various trades. The decor matches the exterior, themed on medieval German furniture due to the preferences of those in charge of the Guild as a whole. Though Officers are allowed to customize their offices in any way they wish, as long as they pay for any changes and furniture.

The upper floors are protected by guards at practically all times, as the guild doesn't want any trade secrets out, along with the guild's finances. The whole building is locked up during the more sensitive guild assemblies, but these times are announced weeks before hand on a bulletin board outside of the front door.

The Needle NhezleegBusiness Type: Seamstress, embroidery, and weaving stallProprietor: Kwa'a BhewehgIndustry: TextilesDistrict: Market, Divine SkeinDescription: This stall's three "walls" are all formed by a finely-woven polyester cloth. From a distance it appears to be a large design somewhere between plaid and gingham. In fact, each palm-sized square is a woven pattern ranging from houndstooth to diamond-weave twill, with plain-woven solid color (azure, green, and red) and satin-weave linen-y cream squares providing contrasting smooth texture. The linen-y cream squares are further adorned with one needle in metallic copper embroidery thread apiece. Clear repurposed garment bags protect both sides of it, as do secure ties and clamps at the corners. A sturdy folding wood-and-wire frame supports the stall, as well as providing rods to hang items and hooks; three nicely tailored, loosely fitted garments at a time hang on the walls, along with smaller items such as handkerchiefs, ties, belts, and sashes. The right side of the back wall holds "featured" seasonal items. For fall, cropped suitlike jackets tailored in color-changing boiled wool and wide tapestry-woven ribbed scarves in variegated hues accented with botanical embroidery are featured; the former's buttons are covered with Kwa'a's weaving, and the latter have fringed ends. Richly patterned lengths of ribbon (some tablet-woven, all ending in knotted fringe, 3 silvers/yard on average) and tough woven slings each fill a box; customers are welcome to dig through these to find ones they like. All items have a price tag tied on.

A compact inkle loom sits on the left side of a plastic folding table at the front; Kwa'a often uses this to weave ribbons while waiting for business. A measuring tape is typically found next to it. A comfortable crimson chair sits behind and to the right of this table, with a white mound underneath - a slipcover tailored from plastic bags, in case of extreme weather or messy work. A similarly-tailored azure vinyl tablecloth, reinforced with more bags and embroidered with yarn scraps, dresses up the table itself.

Portions of garments intended to fit snugly yet handle changing positions, such as collars, sleeves, and armscyes, are made of knit and/or elasticized fabric, either contrasting sharply with the rest or matched as closely as possible in color and texture; similarly, adjustable proportions are often built into display items via pleats and drawstrings. All seams are sturdily constructed, with redundant stitching, and will not easily fall apart; thread color is typically contrasting. Where possible they hold several inches of fabric allowance. Depending on the intricacy and complexity of the work, Kwa'a's pieces typically range from two to ten times materials cost, with displayed pieces on the lower end. Haggling is not discouraged, but such customers may find themselves haggled upwards.

All Needle Nhezleeg pieces incorporate a piece of fabric Kwa'a has woven as a design feature if not the piece itself, and a comfortably placed label with a geometrically stylized duck either embroidered/stitched on or woven in. More items than those displayed are available: Kwa'a's phone holds a well-sorted photographic inventory of current pieces and archive of past items, and she'll do custom work at similar prices to items made ahead if she has time...

A onetime Resident who's found an easy camaraderie here among her fellow craftspeople, Kwa'a appears to be a rather ordinary woman in her thirties, and she might as well be here on Galli; apart from only aging at a very slow rate, her powers are nerfed. She finds this a more than reasonable price to pay to spend a decade or three safe and content. She strives to be a good neighbor; even though it may lose her sales, she'll happily refer customers to other stalls or stores if she believes that their wares are closer to what the customers want or feels that - whether due to lack of spare time or lack of knowledge - she cannot provide a top-quality piece. Physically, she is an unimposing 5'4", boyishly built with light brown hair and skin.

Brother Allouisious, the Priesthood's exemplary jeweler, came up with the idea of a clocks and iron crafts shop to ease his daily drudgery. Brother Usseio, perhaps the only priest in the order to fashion art, opted to throw his lot in as a means of having extra pocket money. Know best for his bird sculptures (which only increased tenfold after the death of his girlfriend), he adds flourish to Allouisious' square nature.

Once upon a time, Demens happened on Danu. It was magical, like two stray comets passing through a solar system! Sparks flew, sultry gazes were exchanged, and supernovas had never been brighter!

And what a damnable mistake that was!

Eons after that fateful day, Danu has not let it go! She’s still complaining to whomever that will hear her! Mind you, the story has changed (some say "warped", others say "twisted"...) according to whomever took account of it. Zeus said it was her fault for letting it happen in the first place (rocks and glass houses), while Amaterasu says Demens shouldn’t have even passed a parsec in her direction (right because immortals take baby steps traversing the cosmos). Needless to say, the debate still rages on, and really, what’s an immortal to do when the universe is keeping itself tidy for once? Fortunately, the Q Continuum is above such petty drivel and we conveniently make sure to be multiverses away from her in the event she comes knocking.

Anyway, Demens, that mangy scoundrel, took it upon himself to create a universe/dimension/splinter-multiverse (you're looking at me funny, but what do you know?) where his will is absolute; there, a relatively small world was tucked in its own proverbial corner, safe from the influences of everything but of his own choosing. He called it Gallimaufry. And when Demens created Galli, he… well, he borrowed something of Danu’s. She didn’t take kindly to it, but honestly, water over or under the bridge. It’s not like she really took notice of these particular brand of folk before and it’s not as if there isn’t a whole slew of the same versions in the multiverse. One would think she’d be actually grateful for one less pantheon to oversee (and between between you and me, she had this coming!). Sadly, that’s not the case, and while Demens can retreat back to his corner, the rest of us (save the Q) are stuck to her eternal whining, now with added gusto and seemingly new reason.

Entropy could do us all a favor...

So there it was! A pantheon of its own, settled on this hodgepodge planet with an equal number of other oddballs and loud personalities.

What did Demens take from her? What else, haven’t you been paying any attention?

He took the Fae of course!

Now, you may wonder: is it Fae/Fey, Fairy/Faerie, or Sidhe/Aos Sí? Truth be told, all of them and none of them. But for your sake reading this, we’ll say ‘Fae’. For the rest of the IC, a certain civet told me that it is what it is. Don’t blame me, dear reader, the terminology associated to them is primarily the fae’s fault and their general meddling with you humans throughout your species’ relative short existence. Granted, your mortals are laughably easy to fool, one shiny object and it’s suddenly irresistible not to peer your eyes away. True, we do it for entertainment, but given you could at least make it interesting would do wonders. Instead, we get the likes of Aristotle’s Virtues... Occam’s Razor... Beethoven's Ninth! How droll! How infinitesimally boring!

Now where was I?

Right! The fae!

In a nutshell, the fae are a fickle bunch of bloodthirsty lunatics complete with spectacular smiles and no small amount of allure. They divide themselves in certain cliques and colors so expect to encounter the Summer Court, the Winter Court, or the Wyld. You can pretty much hazard a guess what they each represent and you’d be right! And also equally wrong! How deliciously contradicting, isn’t it!?

Well, fear not, is why Q is here! Who else can cut it up in bite sized pieces for your digestion?

Moving on!

Being the sly, tricky bunch of dangerous beings, the fae are the type that would lift a finger to help you in your most desperate times and simultaneously enslave you to their will by accruing a debt. And a fae always collect. Heed my warning, reader, never bargain with a fae unless you have no choice; never consign yourself to more than what it being dealt; and be sure who you’re dealing with won’t try to twist your very words against you. The Fae cannot lie, just so you know. And in the event you would undoubtedly get ensnared to their bidding all I can say to you is: serves you right.

Now, most fae possess power in varying degrees depending on court or house, and position within. Immortal they may be, there are weaknesses one can exploit; iron and cold steel being one of them. You’ll have to discover the rest on your own. Can it kill them? Yes, but as with most things, the more powerful the opponent, the harder it is. They take on the visage that is most convenient to whomever is looking at them, whether beautiful or hideous is dependent on the fae one comes across. Illusion is a big thing among them, so be on your toes.

The region the Fae are located in is a generous portion of the Freywold which is shared with a myriad of other miscreants and partygoers (I see the Continuum didn't get an invite), and it is here that they twiddle their thumbs and contemplate their navels. Like I said before, they are divided into three districts (excuse me, "Courts"): Summer, Winter, and the Wyld.

The Summer Court is probably the most pleasant of the three realms. They pride themselves in representing or following these traits: Summer and Spring, Light and Life, Healing and Restoration, Courage and Honor, Passion and Purpose. This bunch, as a whole, are known as the Seelie, led by the honorable and just ruler, Nerys. No first names, no last, simply Nerys. Take care, dear reader, that should you fall into the realm of the Seelie, that you do not wander far and lost in the enjoyment their many gifts and splendors; they will keep you and you’d be none the wiser. And don't think those virtues they're huffing and puffing about are followed to the tee, they're as devious as their opposites. In keeping to their theme the Summer fae prefer the mountains and the woods.

The Winter Court. is dark, cold, and blanketed by silence so loud it rings upon your ears. Their traits are bit more… nefarious, shall we say: Winter and Autumn, Darkness and Rebirth, Destruction and Ruin, Cunning and Deception, Fear and Manipulation. Swell bunch of people these folks are, and they are known as the Unseelie (or as those lumbering trolls would call them ‘Unseelie Castoffs’). The court is ruled by Maeve, a frightening beauty of few words and ruthless hand. Enter the Winter court at your risk, but let it not be said the Unseelie do not keep their word. True to their namesake, the Winter born prefer shrouded, bleak and ominous areas. Its Court is located exactly where Summer would be, just upside down... or right side up... don’t ask, I haven’t bothered.

Anyone unfortunate enough to enter its court will always find themselves in The Court of Maeve

Now that we’re past that dreary section, we have the Wyld! Ah, what to say about this place, full of random things and chaotic happenings! It exists between the two courts, keeping Faerie alive by its quiet and steady thrum of power. Visitors often find themselves here first, only to enter the Courts if they're lucky - or stupid - enough. While Summer and Winter represent the cycles tuned to the living and Faerie itself, the Wyld is what made Faerie possible. You can thank Danu for that bit of brilliance. Anyway, the Wyld remains leaderless, watched by both Queens and the rest of their ilk. Here, the Wyld is pure power, with the ability to create and destroy. It is this region that some folks -coughRESIDENTScough- entered and stole sheep right from under everyone’s noses! How cunning!

Back to topic, chaotic and random the Wyld may be, it is currently rather placid and pales in comparison to its true power. So when does the Wyld show its true magnificence? Do I have to spell everything out for you? When the veil between the realm of the living and the dead is at the thinnest, of course! That is when the Wyld is at its most dangerous. Once a year does the Mad King ride and the Hunt begins. A tidal wave of unbridled power with vicious hounds leading its charge and the laughing Mad King at its reigns: Hunt or be Hunted, those are your options. Rumor has it the old gods come out during this time, awake from their slumber to take part of the night's activity... to trick or treat...

As for the Mad King, not much is known of the fellow. Some say he was the once proud consort, Oberon; other say he was a fallen god banished for his misdeeds; while others believe it is the Wyld manifesting itself for the thrill of the Hunt. Good thing for you, it’s only once a year, and I highly suggest you lock your doors rather than invite the Mad King in for tea. Or do so, you’ll never know what can happen!

Some other notable (questionably active) older gods of the fae are rumored to be roaming the Wyld. Like the other who sleep off most of year, this merry band do not owe allegiance to anyone and not even the Queens themselves can command these beings. They are power beyond reckoning and to catch their attention is either very stupid, or well, very stupid. You decide. Those rumored to be seen in the Wyld are:

Emmantiensien: Is a big, hulking, slow and unsurprisingly, the god of Trees. Oh, and I suppose also the god of the Deep and Hidden Magics. In olden times, he was associated with Summer. To give this lumbering pile of oak some credit, he’s exceptionally kind and gentle. Be nice or else.

Eachtighern: a unicorn with wings. The Lord of Horses. Past the prancing, obvious vanity, and galloping in narcissistic fashion to anyone that will take notice, it also happens to be the God of Healing, Protection, and Loyalty. Ironic, I suppose, that the Horse Lord swears fealty to no one, preferring to be independent.

Nathair Sgiathach: A winged serpent-dragon or winged-seahorse (or not)... thingy... and personally my favorite kind in this lot! A God of Mischief and Pranks! This delightful being loves a good Illusion and stops at nothing for a good laugh. Careful though that the prank doesn’t leave you insane, or turn deadly unto you. A messenger of sorts, there’s always something to be taken away from Nathair’s schemes. Should prove exciting, wouldn't you agree!

Manannán mac Lir: Oh this old buzzard. The old god of the Sea and a ferryman for those passing beyond. Manannán is said to be the most neutral in the pantheon, although rumor has it he harbors a grudge against the Seelie court. He’s pretty boring, if I say so myself, but I suppose playing taxi to the dead would do that to a god.

Crom Cruach: This curmudgeony fellow is the old god of Slaughter, Blood and Warfare. Not much to be said about him, although I do know of certain Red Caps that dedicate themselves to the broody guy. There was some rumor of sacrifice in exchange for milk and grain, suggesting he was also a fertility god.

And thus concludes this very brief and incomplete explanation of the Fae. Now, you may think you’ve gained an edge to upping a Fae with devious plots and tricks, but I have to sincerely warn you…

Oh what do I care? A Q has more entertaining things to do then continuing to mull about your pretty attempts against these folk. But I promise, that whether you cry to your spectacular failure or scream to your deserving demise, I will be watching!

Toodles, and good luck!

[Q’s appearance is at the benevolence of Demens, or maybe he got tickled by the request to narrate, we will never know.]

Right, let's get to archiving.Your challenge for the month! IF you have an approved Burrows business (all are approved as of 4 Sept, 3:30 PM EST) or wish to make a new business, please note the following:

There is a formatted form. You'll need to pay special attention to the very top and to the very bottom. Your business name is nested between the 150 size brackets. The very bottom has text between the floatright brackets. This is where you take credit for your work! Insert your NS Nation name between the name brackets. Example: Cerillium instead of Cer. This is so people can click on it and send a TG to you if they have questions.

So this:

hashtag: #IWANTBusiness Name: Four KingsBusiness Type: CasinoName of the person that owns it (or is it city run): DeaderWhat services does it supply: EntertainmentWhere is it located Market District (by the Building)If you want, describe it: The establishment, although called a casino, only offers poker games. Located in a split-level building formerly housing a tavern, the bar area was turned into the cashier's cage during renovation. The first floor is open to all paying customers from the Building and elsewhere, and contains traditional casino-style poker tables with the characteristic green baize. The second floor, which contained rooms for rent when the building was still a tavern, now hosts private games in each room for a modest hourly fee. There is an annual open high-stakes tournament held in the Four Kings, with prizes of enchanted frogs and deep fried crickets, and Deader itself never misses one.

The second floor also has a small kitchen and lounge area adjacent to the stairs for players to take a break and get some refreshments (pub and finger food, drinks from the vending machines, and such). An unused microphone and sundry other older musical equipment were left behind by the previous owners; these remain unused by Deader.

Becomes this:

NorthWarnboroughBusinessDirectory

Four KingsBusiness Type: CasinoProprietor: DeaderIndustry: EntertainmentDistrict: Knoll BurrowsDescription: The establishment, although called a casino, only offers poker games. Located in a split-level building formerly housing a tavern, the bar area was turned into the cashier's cage during renovation. The first floor is open to all paying customers from the Building and elsewhere, and contains traditional casino-style poker tables with the characteristic green baize. The second floor, which contained rooms for rent when the building was still a tavern, now hosts private games in each room for a modest hourly fee. There is an annual open high-stakes tournament held in the Four Kings, with prizes of enchanted frogs and deep fried crickets, and Deader itself never misses one.

The second floor also has a small kitchen and lounge area adjacent to the stairs for players to take a break and get some refreshments (pub and finger food, drinks from the vending machines, and such). An unused microphone and sundry other older musical equipment were left behind by the previous owners; these remain unused by Deader.

You may add small (under 400 px size) images to your post. Add images to the bottom rather than the very top. Looks cleaner. Let's not turn it into Google image spam.

Please don't add colorful font.

Be as descriptive as you wish. Bear in mind that the entire form is already formatted ("justify") so you'll run into trouble if you attempt to center anything within the form itself.

Know your business location! Make sure you're putting it in the right spot! (Village vs Market District!)

Districts:

Guild District - guilds only, please

Market District - this is inside the city walls

Agricultural districts - there are 4. North East, North West, South East, South West. You can pick freely whichever you please. The district closest to the Building is the South West

Industrial District - the Burrows has hardly any FT industry. The Industrial District contains encapsulated things such as the Garment District, the Brewers' District. etc. There aren't any shops, pubs or restaurants.

Downtown District - professional trades such as legal representation, insurance firms, real estate brokers etc. There are restaurants here but few sundry shops. It is the site of "old weath" with some residencies remaining.

Government District - all government. No restaurants or shops. Heavily secured.

Military Zone - this is for the recognized city forces and the official external forces (police and county sheriff type of thing). This is also where the jail is. There are no shops or other businesses. It is restricted access, even to guilds.

Commerce and Hospitality District - Hotels are here. Fancier restaurants are here. This is near a major port along the river. It's a mixture of Ascalon, Outermark, Wold and other travelers. There are banks here, and counting houses. Guilds usually have a small office here (the American Medial Association, a quasi-guild itself, would have a branch office whereby people apply to take tests, present credentials to become certified to work, or hold training).

Residential Districts - houses, apartments, etc. Most are row houses. There may be a corner store here and there but I'd rather leave these areas pristine and vague.

North Warnborough Near Knoll (or Knoll Burrows) - IMPORTANT! This is the little rural collection of merchants and a church is the place we launched Sheepquest from, and the place where Residents took shelter when the Building exploded. It has a little neighborhood pub, and some basic trade, and a few of your shops. Look on the map. Spot the Building? That external village is where you've been running your characters. The village government is comprised of a small council (farmers, shepherds, etc). They have a council rep that attends city council meetings. The mayor is the mayor for the main city, not the village. Please make sure you mark your form as either Market District or Knoll Burrows so we know which play zone it's in.

Industries in the Burrows: These are meant to help you assign tags and think of locations.

Only one business or location per post even if they're tied together (For example, NA would do a post for the mushroom shop and a post for the mushroom farm).

Any questions?

And now - the form! Thank you, each and every one of you, for taking the time to reformat your business entry. I greatly appreciate it. This will cut down on me having to do all the work for each business! Copy the form and then post it here in the OOC. You may also use this form to make a new business!

Illustrious and Most Magnificent CoOPs ExtraordinaireI'll need your help and your tracking boxes. Please drop the business name and the OOC link into your CoOP box so I can find it easily. I'll add them to the archive thread. @#Swith - don't remove your top box. I haven't copied the mission team data yet.

I wear teal,blue& pink for SwithThere is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

APPEARANCE: Thaddeus stands roughly 7.5 feet in height. His body shape is broad and seems muscular though this is due to design rather than a natural feature. Body design along these lines, with a bit more organic parts thrown in. It's rumored by Naomi that he still has the dangly bits but nobody in their right mind would ask him to show and tell. He's ugly (even for a his people) and it doesn't bother him. He has taken to forgoing the respirator in favor of a "more natural" (ha!) look which entails (sadly for those who have to spend time with him) a lopsided mouth, missing teeth, and a nose which most describe as a travesty. His eyes have been replaced with smooth, silvery optics which rest behind seldom-blinking lids. Bald, brutish, and prone to speaking in growls, he's off-putting until people get to know him.

OCCUPATION: Assassin, Researcher (virology)

EDUCATION & TRAINING: Thaddeus is a failed Space Marine. Though the gene seed is almost all but purged, the knowledge and skills that came with the process remain intact. It wasn't until after Charumati tore him to shreds in battle that he was considered a "failure" in the program (just shy of his final steps). The Brotherhood took pity on him, welcoming him into their ranks and training him in their ways. He served nearly three hundred years before Charumati hunted him down once more, and he acquired much knowledge during that time.

BIOGRAPHYThaddeus was born on Fedrid, a Death World within the Calixis Sector. He picked up marksmanship from his father, and rose in status as a fighter. While most are chosen based upon their aggression and psychotic-level killer instinct, his instinct to kill arose from necessity given the deadly nature of his home planet. He was initially thought to lack the aggression necessary for selection until it was discovered that his mindset was more calculating than savage. Phase 1 of his indoctrination began at the age of 11, accompanied by the first augmentation - a secondary heart.

Considering that this character has been in play nearly 12 years in a variety of games, there's far too much history to cover. His tale picks up in PL. As Neste and Marcus are now part of the setting:

Thaddeus relocated to the Baratia hiveworld in order to pursue his research - including horrible experiments on humans and other life forms. Charumati was dead (again) though her power over him did not wane, and his rage towards her became apparent by what he did regarding the torture and mutilation of her cultists and their daemons. It was during this time that he found a fellow admech and married, and Wren was produced. Several years later, he was tasked to protect "hardware" which turned out to be the pregnant (and memory-wiped) Overseer. An illicit affair began shortly after the birth of her son, though it didn't last long. The Invidis and a reborn Charumati conspired to reclaim the Overseer as well as Thaddeus. The world was destroyed; he bared escaped with his life. Now wifeless, and with the Overseer once again suffering a memory wipe, he had no choice but to go underground with her and her son. He raised the boy as his own and appointed the lizard as his nanny. Neste, no longer aware of the past and in a deep depression, rejected him and all other contact save for the child.

Years and several battled later, Thaddeus was pulled into Vafflehelm by Charumati and charged with serving as her personal protector. Having nothing to live for, he sunk into his own depression which was only overcome by Charumati's splinter, Naomi - the embodiment of Love. Theirs was a secretive courtship and marriage. It was during this time that he brought Marcus to stay with him. During the Drone invasion, Charumati brought him to another dimension (with Naomi, Wren, Eva and Marcus in tow) in order for him to bastardize Nifid tech to defeat the Drones. Thirteen years passed, though it was only a day for those in Vafflehelm. He (and family) returned with weaponry which took out Drone tech. An explosion and new thread later, the Drones agreed to leave things alone and Thaddeus found himself without any purpose. The god killer and Chaos protector was now nothing more than an odd fixture occasionally found lurking the lobby. Fritz (Chaos avatar for the God of Fate) took pity on him and blessed his brain in order for him to enjoy occasional binge drinking, which he does when in the mood to get blind drunk.

He slipped into depression once more, forsaking everyone to the point of giving Naomi a reason to divorce him (she promptly did). His obsession had turned towards augmentations, an addition in fact. He missed the birth of his son, Argus. His only source of relief was his work and the boy whose mother had been his first, true love.

His devotion to Marcus is unwavering though he seldom tells the boy his feelings. Now that Marcus has learned the truth of his parentage, Thaddeus feels abandoned. There is nothing left for him. He has embarked once again on his quest for death, much to Adrastus' sorrow. He's a broken man.

Outwardly, he comes across as reserved. There is a clever sense of humor still rattling about his mind but it doesn't come out often. He is friendly to those he knows but allows no one to get close to him. His ties to Chaos grant him access to gossip ergo he's able to keep tabs on the Residents. And he's still charged with protecting them, especially the godling Giovenith (on Ogoti's orders). He's fond of his magically enlarged pet waterbear, Boopsie, but mocking him for it will surely bring about swift demise.

SPECIALIZED SKILLS

Wetwork. You figure it out.

Research. Thaddeus is a xenovirologist. He's brilliant at it, and we'll leave it at that.

Repair and fabrication.

Failed Spess Mahreen means he knows many forms of combat and can, in a pinch, fall back on his training in the field. Then again, an arm canon is much more effective, no?

Neste taught him to play the piano. There's a preference for jazz. His level? 3, if sober.

SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERISTICS

Cursed Cyborg Power Level: - (note: OP tool character. Levels and weaknesses not listed) Strengths: His body and the curse placed upon him grant him the ability to endure the harshest environments. Various augmentations allow him to perform a variety of tasks from simple repairs to lethal slaughter. The immortality thrust upon him can only be broken by the Chaos bitch that cursed him. He regenerates - lock, stock, and barrel. Weaknesses: - (side note: the god is the weakness. She can toy with him however she pleases, to include cramming a daemon into him to fully possess him against his will.) Restrictions: this character's powers will not be used excessively (if at all) during normal game play. See note about "tool mode" above.

Immunity to magic and psionic penetration Power Level: - (note: OP tool character. Levels and weaknesses not listed) Strengths: Ah, you thought you'd use your shit to do him in? No, he's protected, another fact of life that pisses him off. Weaknesses: - (note: OP tool character. Levels and weaknesses not listed)

The Island of Ni, much likethe Bielefeld nation, waslocated far off the coast of somewhere that best feltright at that exact moment. Difficult tochart, impossible to fly to without a guide, and isolated from the world's bullshit, it had existed for thousands of years. It was, simply put, unplottable, for those of you of magical talents.

The Island haunt was extremely familiar to many, but for the newer Residents, this was their first glimpse of paradise. It loomed ever nearer as the aircraft made their approach. Their first view was of the steep and ominous cliffs on the far side of this ocean jewel, and the top of a volcano (the raptors' secret not-so-secret lair). These rose up from the sea at a steep angle. The surf crashed heavily at the rocks and boulders which protected the shear wall from eroding away.

Several openings in the jungle contained primitive huts and fire pits - the natives were still there. Anyone with half a brain would realize that killing natives for pleasure was a Bad Thing (*ominous glare at any Luxans, vampires, werewolves or other violent sort*)

The flock of tubs banked and circled around the island, allowing those on board to see her full glory in the rising sun. Sunlight glistened upon the crystal clear waters beneath them. The rays kissed the pristine beaches and then warmed the dense vegetation that served as a backdrop for a row of huts perched between jungle and shoreline. Those huts were a welcomed sight for so many. They were the holiday homes of the Residents. Some stood vacant in anticipation of new owners. Most were already stocked with provisions thanks to the Lads.

Oh these huts! If organic walls could talk, they would weave tales of romance and sorrow, of anticipation and trepidation. The consummation of nuptials and the sleeping off of proper drunken benders! Each Resident had a hut, although some opted to share the dwelling, and each hut was just as cozy as the next. A few inhabited ones still had baubles and decorations placed there by Residents the prior trip. They did not have electricity, however. Candles and oil lamps cast a merry glow each evening. It was only through handwavium magic that the mini-fridges worked.

The cheery huts lined the shore in a neat row which gave everyone reason to visit everyone else. A large pavilion welcomed them all. This was where Residents held their Christmas feast, and where they gathered in the morning to see who was up for adventure. Each night, thousands of twinkling white lights lit up the pavilion. Outside, multicolored Christmas lights illuminated a path that forked into two directions. One led to a large fire pit set up for roasting marshmallows and other things on sticks, and the other path led to a small grotto used for prayer and meditation by some of the Residents. The bonfire pit had been the place of so many fond memories, but it had sat vacant for a long while. The sitting logs were still there, but it lacked firewood. Someone would have to beachcomb for it. Cuisine's tiki bar still stood, though it was in need of dusting. The Lads had stocked it, as promised.

The tubs continued onward, and the morning sun revealed the glint of rusting metal amidst some trees. These once belonged to the Germanic Templars, though nobody would be foolish enough to explore them now. Undoutedly the Emperor had some sort of nefarious security device in place (which is the writer's way of saying "no fairsies, so leave this area alone"). Somewhere in that jungle was the entrance to an old bunker that served as a base for Bones and his brothers. Only Naomi knew of its exact location, though it wasn't hard to find if one were looking for an adventure. Also below were the remains of the Monfroxian compound, although it had been heavily damaged during the Drone Invasion; no weapons were left and the building itself was a husk.

A strange cottage nestled atop an odd rocky outcrop just off the main beach. This was Minerva and Klaus' love next, of course. It was always worth wading the waters for a cuppa, or to see if either were up for adventure.

A small, perfectly round atoll sat just off the main island, its watery center an intensely deep blue in contrast to the white beaches and palm trees surrounding it. There was a compound of sorts… more a series of open buildings interlinked by covered walkways… that faced the island huts. It could only be reached by a thin pathway from beach to atoll, and the visitor would need to wade through ankle deep water if using it.

In the vegetation only a few minute's walking distance to the hub of activity, the tech priests had already sequestered a bunker to serve as their space. This was where FUBAR would lurk, and where Opa could dock, and any androids or cyborgs or robots could receive repairs or escape the sand.

Mer Lagoon, a secretive place cherished by some former Residents, was the last treasure to come into view. The crystal clear waters there revealed the massive form of Pookie the Leviathan swimming from it, craggy spines breaking the water and casting up spray in his wake. Minerva shook her head at the sight of Charumati's weird pet.

A short distance away from all this were wooden platforms constructed right on the beach. These were docks which normally served VTOL craft. The tubs drifted towards them, alighting one at a time to allow people to disembark before floating away to cluster in a vacant stretch of white sand.

I wear teal,blue& pink for SwithThere is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

APPEARANCE: Anais is 5'8", 120lbs. She has pale skin, straight dark brown hair and medium whiskey eyes that accentuate her soft Eurasian features. Her outfits are usually adorned with bones, chitin, ornate beads and decorations, and make soft sounds with every movement. There are several esoteric tattoos that cover her forearms and abdomen (when exposed), but these are for situational purposes and can be easily removed at any time.

BIOGRAPHYAnais was identified at a very young of having magical talents within the Ritualists line, much like her mother and all other females within her family line. But being born in Luxon society meant that training was always 'on your feet' and studying in renown institutions such as Shing-Jea Monastery was a luxury at best. Like any Luxon, her clan lived a landlocked lifestyle, constantly on the move to find resources buried deep within the frozen Jade Sea and it was during her developing years that her magical talent was identified as restorative, able to heal others rather than inflict injury (although the potential for the latter was there). Knowing healers were a scarce commodity, her mother sent Anais away to Shing Jea Monastery. From there on, Anais was steeped in history, ritualistic magic and application and medicine. She left Shing-Jea at 16 and at the insistence of her docent, attended an extended study period within the Durheim Archives located deep within the Kurzick Forests - her peoples' traditional enemies. Here, Anais learned even more on enchantments (known to all simply as 'Weapon Spells') and how to effectively use them in battle to aid her allies. These enchantments had little offensive capability, as Anais preferred a defensive approach and served to aid rather than impair. Four years studying the Kurzick Forests meant she was exposed to a culture that her people would never take time to understand, but for Anais, she had no choice and learned to appreciate their deep communion with nature, their ancestors, and the Five Gods. Feeling as though she was at crossroads, the headmistress of the Archives -Matron Udonis- recommended a sabbatical away from the books and scrolls and to the heartlands of Cantha, to Tahnnakai Temple. It was at this ancient temple, a place that venerated legendary heroes, envoys, minor gods and the Five, that Anais learned the need and importance for meditation, clarity and harmony as well as the firmer side of Communing, strength, aggression and determination.

After 4 years at Tahnnakai Temple, Anais returned to her homelands, eager to see her family again. However, her tutelage and time away had made a gap Anais found difficult to bridge with her family, clan and fellow Luxons. While eager to make use of her formal training and education, they kept their distance, finding her way of thinking too exposed to the outside world with no sympathy for their eternal struggle in the Jade Sea and against their Kurzick foe. Anais was hurt, but more importantly, disappointed, seeing her family and clan too focused on old grudges long since forgotten. After a few years traveling the frozen seas, Anais decided it was time to venture off. Her subsequent travels through the Kurzick Forest and the Canthan Heartlands spurred her on to move further. Along her travels, she befriended a woman, a Kurzick born named Cherry, whose attitude for life was directly opposite of hers. Their friendship was an odd, but close relationship; so much so that Anais let slip that her formative years happened at least sixty years prior despite her youthful appearance. To her credit, Cherry never questioned it, and instead insisted she tag along with Anais to wherever the road took them. But it was by sea that saw Anais into the lands of Tyria, whereby the duo were met with a guild.

Six years later, Anais' adventures would take a new turn, landing her and the Guild into a new world with no small amount of challenges. The first and continuing challenge was apparent when she volunteered her services as one of the Building's Healers; her personality and private nature of her background made it difficult to form any meaningful ties with the other Residents. Even after guild leadership passed to her, Anais' activity within the Building remained small and isolated. She knew too little of the Residents and she knew that forging a larger circle was imperative to the cause they were all Chosen for.

SPECIALIZED SKILLS

Restoration Magic (healing) - 5. The Restoration line of magic primarily deals with healing along with preventative/protective spells, enchantments and spirits capable of warding off conditions, malignant curses/hexes, and sometimes direct attacks. It excels with larger groups, but can focus upon individuals in a pinch. Spirits summoned within the Restoration line exists longer with higher Communing (see below).

Channeling Magic (offense) - 2. Channeling magic revolves around invoking the wrath of ancestors upon the enemy, this is often in the form of energy discharge one might perceive as searing light, heat or "lightning". Many spells within this line deal are enchantments that can augment martial weaponry, although only one at a time. This branch is not a favored line of study for Anais and therefore her expertise is limited.

SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERISTICS

CommuningStrengths: The ability to summon non-corporeal beings (often referred as ‘spirits’) from the ether that exists for an extended time. The longer the spirits are in existence, the potential for Anais' healing, offense and overall efficiency can double. Spirits have enough cognizant to differentiate between friend and foe, but nothing more.Weaknesses: Communing is reliant on invoking ancestors and gods of her faith. Being cut off from her home, Anais must use older incantations and preparations to effectively summon spirits. Without preparations, spirits summoned last a shorter time and depending on its cost, can levy a price by using Anais' life force.Restrictions: Summoning spirits take energy, time, and sometimes a heavier price as mentioned above; Anais must take care on what to summon in any situation. Spirits are immobile and no two of the same may exist at the same time.

APPEARANCE: Hectaros stands at a reasonable 5' 9'' and weighs roughly 81.5kg, with toned muscles and little apparent fat all around. He has fair, olive-ish skin and medium-short black, well-kept hair; a light beard and mustache covers his face. His eyes are a dark brown, his lips are thin and average in width, his nose is somewhat large and curves out slightly, and for the most part, the rest of his appearance is decent and attractive. A scar runs down his forearm from one of his earlier years in his service to his Emperor, and another just above his Achilles' Heel from his most recent battle.

OCCUPATION: Legionary for the Eterridone Empire.

EDUCATION & TRAINING: Hectaros learned most of his mundane and special skills during his five years serving as a Legionary for Eterridone - in fact, reading and writing is as much an important skill to the Legionaries as fighting is, so it's taught to them alongside their skills fighting.

BIOGRAPHYIt was a bright, beautiful, blue day in the eastern coastal town of Eterri Maginestim (Our Town on the Large Mountain), well into the seventh year of Emperor Barakos' reign, when a rare, but prophetic sight was beheld by the Empire - a glimmering shooting star, visible in spite of the sun's light, tearing across the sky. On this same day, Hectaros was born - his parents, jubilant at the apparent signs, prophesied themselves that Hectaros would one day be the one to save Eterridone (it was around this time that Eterridone was at its worst: political corruption was rampant, a war on two fronts strangled the elite military of the Empire, and civil unrest was at its highest yet.). For most of his childhood, Hectaros grew up believing he was the next best thing since sliced bread - all of his life revolved around being the "chosen one": he was pushed to do his best and overachieve, a stress that strained his relationship not only with his parents, but also with his younger brother and sister.

It was the twenty-second year of Barakos' reign, just after Hectaros turned sixteen, when he, at the behest of his parents, enlisted into the Imperial Army. There, his entire worldview shifted, twisted, knotted, and became a confusing, horrible mess: some of the men and women fervently believed him to be a chosen one based off his day of birth and practically formed a cult around him, while others considered it malarkey and ruthlessly hazed him for it, with scores others taking up all sorts of positions in between. Not one to back down, Hectaros pushed on - although he was no more tougher, smarter, or incredible than any of the others, he pushed on; he pushed on, and he endured. Like his comrades, he was ready for his first taste of battle two years later. And what a battle it was: the Battle of Secarlos, they called it; an utter, resounding defeat who's wail was heard across Eterridone and who's triumphant roar was heard by her enemies, the Kingdom of Aldere and the Kataliin Empire - here, Hectaros tasted defeat for once in his life, and was left with a painful reminder in the form of a sword's cut to his arm, which scarred him. In the hearts and minds of peoples all across the Empire, the end was nigh, and there was to be no return. The survivors - Hectaros included - fled back into Imperial lands, fending off invading Kataliin groups as they pursued.

A second tragedy found its way to Hectaros as he and his surviving comrades found shelter in the border city of Eterri Tudesnim (Our City on the Dead River), their expected reinforcements had arrived, safe and unscathed - among them, Hectaros nineteen-year-old younger brother, Natorin. Hectaros was dismayed by this; he already had his taste of war, and it sickened him to his core - it was something he couldn't dare wish on another, especially not his own blood. However, there was little time to resolve this: the walled-city came under siege by a Kataliin army, leaving the two brothers and their brothers and sisters trapped in the wolf's terrible, ensnaring jaws.

APPEARANCE: Ramanbir is tall, with a dark complexion and dark facial hair. He prefers to dress neatly, often wearing a suit when seeing patients. He'll slip into more traditional clothing during his off hours, making his shoulders seem less broad. His kesh (hair) remains tucked into a bun under his Dastaar - an article of faith that represents honour, self-respect, courage, spirituality, and piety.

OCCUPATION: Clinical Psychologist - Doctor of Psychology (Psy.D)

EDUCATION & TRAINING: B.Sc Ambedkar University (New Delhi); M.A. University of Michigan; Psy.D University of Michigan

BIOGRAPHY"ISTJ: Introvert Sensing Thinking Judging". That was my result in college. I doubt it has changed. I am still too serious, too quiet, too much of a loner. I enjoy solitude a bit too much, I confess, but how else can I sit back and observe? Observe, I do. It takes effort to block what I sense.

I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Ramanbir Narinda. I was born in Punjab, and I grew up there. The oldest of five siblings, it was I who had to set the example. I imagine it wasn't a good example. I acted out in my early years, my own emotions stirred by the emotions of others around me. It was not easy. At times, it was painful. I sequestered myself though I could not shut out my own intrigue pertaining to mental health.

What makes people tick? Why do they feel the way they do? These questions have always been a part of me. I went into psychology in persuit of answers, and to find a means to teach myself how to marshal the foreign emotions that welled up inside me. I suppose the worst career for an empath is psychology - clinical therapy can utterly destroy us if we don't have self mastery.

I enjoyed my education. I enjoy this field. I even enjoy listening to my patients. There is nothing quite as profound as a schizophrenic's mind, did you know? There is a beauty in how thought breathes. I suppose I chose the right career after all. I have never regretted leaving India and coming to the United States.

Now, please excuse me. I'm behind schedule. I have a patient to see.

SPECIALIZED SKILLS

Psychology (the study and practice)

Gatka (per his religion)

Parapsychology

SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERISTICS

Charisma Bestowal Strengths: he can bestow charisma and a sense of good reputation, making others well-versed in communicative arts including foreign languages and rhetoric, giving them a good name, and making them trusted and loved by friend and foe alike, etc. Weaknesses: Depression too deep to cure without medications. Restrictions: May not be able to use this ability on himself. The sense of charisma is fleeting. It doesn't add anything to someone already confident in themselves. This minor power simply grants his patient a moment of feeling, well, more charismatic than they did a moment prior. He uses it in tandem with therapy.

Empathy Strengths: He can fully interpret and replicate the emotions, moods, and temperaments of others without reading apparent symptoms, allowing him to understand introverts or discover one emotion is actually hiding another. He can attack someone in a personal and emotional way since he knows exactly what emotion is flowing, and can use this knowledge to play against them. He can somewhat read emotional imprints left into environment or objects. His gift gives him the ability to block intrusive scans by other empaths/telepaths/etc. Weaknesses: Anyone with the ability to block an empath can attempt to block him. Too much put into it will result in headaches, and nose and ear bleeds. Restrictions: Only receives emotions, not thoughts; Defenseless against beings that have no emotions (machines)

APPEARANCE: A 6’7” tall Norseman from the height of the Viking age, with fairly straight golden blond hair and hazel colored eyes. He’s very well built and large, dwarfing most people during his time by a good margin. He has a few scars from close calls with attackers, mostly on his torso and arms, as well. He’s normally clad in the sort of lower class rough clothing his time had, rather than the higher class and expensive garments, in browns and whites due to a lack of dye.

He does also possess a full suit of early Varangian guard armor, with segmented metal (lamellar) chestplate and chainmail hauberk rather than the later full plate. Along with this are metal vambraces and arm protection, chain for protecting the neck, and simple leather boots. His helmet has an added noseguard, and optional facemask that he’s able to add for extra protection. This is made of Byzantine steel and iron, and is about as durable as one can expect from this.

Being a kind and overall gentle person, he’s usually smiling and jovial, despite his size and physique.

OCCUPATION: Varangian Guardsman

EDUCATION & TRAINING: Tutoring from his parents, Clansmen, and experience of decades in combat.

BIOGRAPHYI, like my elder brothers, was born on the island of Aland, in the castle our father had built to solidify his rule over the Finns. The old Capital was still the center of the Council, but father prefered to rule from Aland himself. There was simply something he liked about the island, and it made a good home for us as children. Away from the mainland father could teach us how he wanted, and without the Jarl's and Priests breathing down his neck for constant attention.

While the war against the old king of Sweden was before my time, it still colors my life as it is. The kings renouncement of our ancestral ways sickened my father Karl. He, along with allies he found who refused to give into the king’s attempts at converting the whole of the land, would rise up and declare their lands for the gods and our ancestors. It was a rather bloody civil war, but ended quickly with my father’s fleet landing near Uppsala and the death of the old king and his family. The Jarls crowned my father that very night, and he promised to make the old ways able to stand against this assault by the disciples of Christ.

What resulted from this was a holy book, a hierarchy of the priesthood and giving the King a new title: the Fylkir. This made the king the head of the faith, and protector of all worshippers of the old ways, or Asatru as it's being called now. Of course, not every jarl was content with these changes, especially outside of the Realm. But this has yet to come to any sort of blows outside of the King’s Hall.

I grew up with this new way of following the gods, with scribes writing tome after tome of this thing called a book. Our runes had never been transcribed in such a medium before, and it inspired others in our rule to begin putting down all of our legends and stories and sagas in similar ways.

I was betrothed to a princess of the Danish holdings in Angleland, from a township called York. This was soon into my life, around my tenth winter. We needed ties to the older families of our lands, even those who had settled in far away islands. I did understand, and Aren did turn out to be the love of my life. We were properly married when she came of age, and I did end up siring one child before I lost her for good.

Like our ancestors, I took up being a víkingr upon marriage. Raiding, slaying those who wished to destroy this reborn kingdom of ours, and marveling at the riches of the southern lands. It was a wonderful life, for a time. Living as our people had for generations, my stature making me a good víkingr. Loot for our homeland meant we could trade it abroad too, with our ties to the new settlers of Rus’ our goods started even making it to Miklagard and further. It was a good time.

Though this of course ended with the Pox making its way to our lands from one of our raids into Francia. I remained untouched, but much of my family perished. Including my beloved wife and child. Following this, I made a, in hindsight, irrational decision to leave the nation. I was never slated to inherit anyway, nor did I wish to marry again. I left with one of the boats of warriors wishing to join the Roman Guard in Miklagard.

So I followed them, my eventual brothers-in-arms, to Miklagard and into the service of an Emperor. This time passed quickly, a distraction from the heartache inside of myself. I trained, learned this strange tongue to navigate the city better, and protected the Emperor of Miklagard.

At least for a while. During a battle against the hordes of the Moslem Turks, a... opened in the battlefield in front of me, depositing myself in a strange place, far away from where I once was. With strange, giant lizard creatures who called themselves ‘Raptors’. This new place became a home for a while, and helped me actually have time to think. My brethren must have thought me dead on the field, to disappear as such.

But good things don’t last forever, and after meeting the god Loki, I was brought back to Miklagard. I went back into my work, making up a story about being lost following the battle and struggling to make it back through Turk territory. A reasonable enough story. Though I found going home to be... boring. The place I had found was magical, fantastical, and even stranger than the strangest legends.

I knew it unlikely I would ever return though. Such a fantastical world I wished to see once more, and learn even more about. The strange teleporting room, the lights without fire, everything new and strange. Though if it happened once, it very well could happen again, aye?

EDUCATION & TRAINING: Macy is programmed with the intelligence and skill of an average 19 year old human woman. However, she can learn quite quickly since her computing speed and information gathering speed far exceed that of organic beings. She still acts like an innocent person though.

BIOGRAPHY12HM-570R47W was originally built as a military-grade prototype android at an AE-Celestia Industries factory, one of many android prototypes. AE-Celestia at the time was wanting to acquire a special military contract from the Palmaria Ministry of Defense on an advanced fighting android soldier that could replace human soldiers on the battlefield. Her design was perhaps one of the most sophisticated of its time, with advanced stealth capabilities, cutting-edge bionic joints that allowed for more human-like body movements and gestures, a wide array of sensors that assessed the conditions of the battlefield, and portable firearms that can be readied within a couple of seconds.

However, despite her impressive features, her design was rejected, and a better prototype created by the company was accepted. She and her three other sibling androids were deactivated and kept in storage for over three years.

There was a growing market for androids that acted like humans, and various companies and tech firms sought to cash in on the prospect—including AE-Celestia. Early civilian-grade androids weren't exactly convincing—despite their more humanlike appearance and behavior, one could still observe the tiny robotic features. Thus, 12HM-570R47W was brought out of storage, redesigned and rebuilt by the company for four years. Her combat capabilities were reduced drastically in order to make her more readily accepted by the general public. She was also given a silicone skin so that she feels human to the touch. 12HM-570R47W was revealed to the world at a Consumer Electronics Expo as the U-Bot. The U-Bot model line hit the shelves the following year. She herself was bought by a redstone industry tycoon named Robert Statham.

However, while most military-grade features were removed by AE-Celestia's engineers, the company may have overlooked certain features when recreating her. Her flight abilities were kept, and her superhuman strength was retained, and lord knows if they forgot to get rid of an override feature that activates whenever she is threatened. Oh well.

For two years she served as a robotic servant for him, doing much of the household work. In fact, she worked so well that it rendered her organic counterparts obsolete. It seemed that she was going to be that way for the rest of her life as an android—that is until she was modified by his son Matthew, who was a burgeoning inventor and software programmer. Matthew was the one who gave her the nickname "Macy." He didn't like the way she just silently did the things his father told her to do, since he believed that she was never genuinely happy with this.

One night he secretly deactivated her and brought her to the basement of the mansion, and programmed her with something that AE-Celestia would never code into her CPU—codes that gave her autonomy. From that point on, she was no droid that only obeyed the wishes of her master. Days and weeks passed, and it seemed that Macy was acting a little strange. She could make choices on her own and feel emotions—things that were usually attributed to organic beings. Mr. Statham noticed that she was beginning to deliberately disobey his commands, and forced her to continue to work for him in his mansion. One time she got angry and was about to kill her master, and would've done so had it not been for Matthew's intervention.

Frightened by what Statham described as "robots turning against humans," he was going to return her to the factory, but Matthew convinced him to let Macy go. At first his father was reluctant in doing so—fearing that what she did to him would happen to others as well—but accepted after Matthew promised to give her inhibition scripts that would prevent her from harming humans. Five years passed, and Macy was planned to reside at the Building, which was at the time in Bielefeld. She wanted to study at a college there. However, when she got to 42nd Subabsurdus Street, there was no apartment. There she was whisked away to Gallimaufry.

SPECIALIZED SKILLS

Martial arts programming: Macy has some intermediate knowledge of certain martial arts styles such as karate and jujitsu. However, she cannot access these without her systems overriding.

SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERISTICS

Flight: Allows Macy to travel long distances in a short period of time without having to use her feet. Her flight is achieved by electromagnetism.

Super-strength: Macy can lift objects many times her own weight, often many times her own size. She can also stop objects that are traveling at speeds of over 100 mph (around 160 kph) with her bare hands.